the Prince himself who relates the great, but, alas! torsoed epic
of the Facardins,[298] of whom he is himself one. But as there are only
two stories, there is no room for much framework, and we see much less
of the "resurrected" Dinarzade[299] than we could wish from what we do
see and hear.

_Fleur d'Epine_, which she herself tells, is a capital story, somewhat
closer to the usual norm of the _Nights_ than is usual with Hamilton. It
bases itself on the well-known legends of the Princess with the
literally murderous eyes; but this Princess Luisante is not really the
heroine, and is absent from the greater part of the tale, though she is
finally provided with the hero's brother, who is a reigning prince, and
has everything handsome about him. The actual hero Tarare (French for
"Fiddlestick!" or something of that sort, and of course an assumed
name), in order to cure Luisante's eyes of their lethal quality, has to
liberate a still more attractive damsel--the title-heroine--putative
daughter of a good fairy and actual victim of a bad one, quite in the
orthodox style. He does this chiefly by the aid of a very amiable mare,
who makes music wherever she goes, and can do wonderful things when her
ears are duly manipulated. It is a good and pleasant story, with plenty
of the direct relish of the fairy-tale, Eastern and Western, and plenty
also of satirical parody of the serious romance. But it is not quite
consummate. The opening, however, as a fair specimen of Hamilton's
style, may be given.

[Sidenote: The opening of _Fleur d'Epine_.]

Two thousand four hundred and fifty-three leagues from here
there is an extraordinarily fine country called Cashmere. In
this country reigned a Caliph; that Caliph had a daughter,
and that daughter had a face; but people wished more than
once that she had never had any. Her beauty was not
insupportable till she was fifteen; but at that age it
became impossible to endure it. She had the most beautiful
mouth in the world; her nose was a masterpiece; the lilies
of Cashmere--a thousand times whiter than ours--were
discoloured beside her complexion; and it seemed impertinent
of the fresh-blown rose to show itself beside the carnation
of her cheek. Her forehead was unmatchable for shape and
brilliancy; its whiteness was contrasted with a Vandyke
point of hair blacker and more shining than jet--whence she
took her na